I'll give you a little bit of me...

One of my earliest memories as a child was sitting in the bath with it filled full of Mr.Matey bubbles (which, when I was younger we dubbed, 'cosmos.') I took my index fingers and gave them names. 'Wooby' and 'Mama.' I had no other bath toys apart from a very chewed yellow rubber ducky which lived on the side of the bath and watched me whilst I bathed. I could hear mum struggling with my newborn sister in our shared room. She was putting up a fight as it was bedtime.

After my father left we had very little money but I never wanted for anything. Mainly because my mother made every single day fun. No matter if it was 'borrowing,' (my mother and me went and pikey'd some mesh from a field so we could build a little run for my rabbit, Misty) we used to make a game out of almost anything. My earliest years were spent laughing, not crying, as many children from broken homes do. I was not a demanding child, mum reminds me, I was content with my lot in life. I was deeply loved by my maternal Nan, who used to take me for long walks and explain to me about all the different plants and animals. I come from a very nature-loving family and am thankful for that. I was well educated before I started any form of school and more aware of my surroundings than most children thanks mainly to Nan's nurturing and patience.

I have a younger sister and even though girls are meant to follow more after mothers, we were both little tom boys. I would rather be playing in my Biker Mice From Mars tent than giving imaginary tea to some plastic tart. I got into scrapes and scraps and came home with bruises more often than not. I didn't really 'fit in' at school as I wasn't overly interested in the things others were. I got on well at school but would often close myself off for some 'me' time. Sadly the teachers thought this was odd and mum would be spoken to after class. Kids can sense when something is up and so I was teased. I cannot really remember what for but kids never need a proper reason, do they? Coming from a little village-type place everyone finds out about you. The teachers mentioned that maybe my introvertedness was to do with my father leaving. How ridiculous. Some children are just naturally like that, we are all different after all.

It was hard on mum, feeling she had to tow the weight for her and for my estranged father. She did her best and to be honest it was enough. I never, ever asked where my father had gone or when he would be back. I never mentioned him at all, in fact.

'It was as if you knew. The day he walked out on us you slept in my bed and smiled and told me you loved me.'


My mum often tells me how towards the end of the marriage to my father I had become distant from him and pretty much stayed out of his way. He did get violent about a week before the day arrived where he said he was seeing someone else. She was 16 years old and from the workplace he and my mother were at. Mum had even comforted the girl once. I remember stopping with nan a lot so I probably figured something was amiss as Nanny usually came to ours to stop.

Shortly after the upheaval of leaving our family home and moving in with my nan, mum had her varicose veins ripped out (ouch!). It was our first Christmas without our dad and without our home. All we wanted to do was go sledging as we had never been before but mum was not allowed to get her dressings wet or be on her feet much. With two young children and no support except for my extremely poorly nan, she bandaged her leg tightly and wrapped a bin bag over it. We trudged through the snow to the hills that were behind where our old house was. The big 'Sold' sign was glaring at us through the mini blizzard.

We played for hours, not noticing mums growing discomfort as she was laughing despite the agony she must have been in. Begging to have one push down the hill before we went home, we ran to the top, slipping and getting faces full of snow as we went head first into the ground. We had a bright yellow sledge that seated me and my little sister, whom was firmly ensconced within my grip. We both wore warm clothing and knitted bobble hats made by Nanny. Mum gave a huge push and we whizzed down, squealing as we went. Sadly, mum hadn't realised just how hard she pushed and we were heading straight for the partially frozen brook! Hysterically laughing and doing her best to run after us mum grabbed the back of our little sledge before we flew over the edge of the bank. She had tears streaming down her face but we were laughing. It was the best Christmas we had ever had.

Mum's hysteria was explained later on in life as she relives the image of two little bobble hats wiggling on top of the heads of two rosy-cheeked kids. My mother and indeed the rest of my mothers family have an odd sense of humour. I still laugh like a drain each time she tells me as she is always giggling like a crazed woman when repeating it.

I suppose this was really just to remember the good stuff that has happened as often people, including me, focus mainly on what a bad hand they have been dealt. You make your life, regardless of the start you have had. Just remember that.

As it draws closer to Christmas and I am on my own this year with no family around and no partner to share it with I will always remember that we made the best of past Christmas's and I shouldn't feel sad.

I love you mum and I'm sorry I don't visit you nearly enough. I miss you every single day x


Now my bloody mascara has run all down my face and I look like a member of 'Kiss.'